Chapter 53 – A New Path
Los Angeles, California – Sentinel Global Security Office
Grant parked his truck in front of a nondescript office building in West Hollywood. The address he'd received from his contact led to the headquarters of Sentinel Global Security, an elite private security firm specializing in high-profile protection.
Stepping out of the car, he surveyed his surroundings. No large sign indicated that this was one of the city's most prestigious security companies. Just a discreet logo on the glass reception desk. Discreetness spoke volumes about the company.
Grant adjusted his leather jacket over his black T-shirt and headed for the entrance.
"May I help you?" asked the receptionist, a professionally dressed woman in her 30s, blonde.
"I have a meeting with Mark Collins. I'm Grant Tucker-Pritchett."
She nodded and typed something on her computer before picking up the phone.
"Mr. Collins, your guest has arrived."
Seconds later, a side door opened, revealing Mark Collins, a former Delta Force member now working at Sentinel.
"Cinema! You finally showed up." Collins smiled and extended his hand.
Grant smiled at the nickname he'd earned in the unit and shook his hand firmly.
"Sure, man. You said it was worth coming. So, here I am."
"It is. Come on, I'll introduce you to the boss."
Collins led Grant down a sleek, modern hallway. Unlike military bases and government offices, everything here felt more corporate, but without losing its serious, professional tone.
They passed several rooms where men and women analyzed camera feeds, monitored live events, and planned security operations for clients around the world.
"We've been in the business for over 15 years," Collins explained as they walked. "Sentinel started small, but now we protect everyone from celebrities to royalty in the Middle East."
"I heard. I have a contact at Black Mountain Security who mentioned you."
Collins laughed.
"Black Mountain? Those guys are good, but most of our clients prefer something less... flashy. Our approach is more strategic, not a thousand guys dressed like soldiers in a Beverly Hills mall."
Grant nodded. He'd seen some companies go overboard on the "tactical," wanting to appear like special forces rather than personal protection professionals. Close Protection work required discretion, not showiness.
"And the boss? What's he looking for?"
Collins opened the door to a glass-enclosed conference room.
"We'll let him tell you that."
Inside, sitting at the head of a dark wood table, was Daniel Mercer, CEO of Sentinel and a former CIA agent.
"Grant Tucker-Pritchett. We finally meet."
Grant shook Mercer's hand firmly and sat down.
"The pleasure is mine."
Mercer studied him for a moment, taking in every detail.
"I've heard a lot about you. Your track record speaks for itself."
Grant didn't respond. He knew a serious recruiter didn't want to hear someone bragging.
Mercer opened a file with Grant's resume.
"Delta Force, operations in Iraq, Syria, Afghanistan, Somalia... Impressive medals. Many guys in your position would have chosen a job with the CIA or a million-dollar contract with some PMC in the Middle East."
"I've had offers, but it wasn't what I wanted."
"And what do you want?"
Grant thought for a moment before answering.
"Something that utilizes my skills, but without the politics or risks of being on a battlefield all the time. Personal protection makes sense. I want a job that challenges my experience, but without always requiring me to be in direct combat."
Mercer smiled slightly.
"Good answer. A lot of people get into this business thinking it's just being a movie bodyguard, but the truth is, it's a mental game. You always have to be one step ahead."
Grant nodded.
"And how do you operate?"
Mercer crossed his fingers on the table.
"Sentinel has specialized teams for different clients. Some require discreet armed escorts, others need undercover bodyguards among their employees. We've had agents operating as drivers, personal assistants, and even security consultants for billionaires and heads of state."
Grant leaned forward slightly.
"And who are you looking for now?"
Mercer exchanged a look with Collins before answering.
"We have some VIP clients in need of high-level professionals. One is a tech mogul who's receiving serious threats. Another is a member of Middle Eastern royalty who needs a new security team."
Collins smiled.
— "And if you want something more exciting, there are always celebrities with problems with stalkers and paparazzi."
Grant smiled slightly.
— "Well, I'd rather not protect someone who might punch me because I didn't let him in drunk."
Mercer and Collins laughed.
"We understand. But seriously, you're cut out for elite protection. If you want, we can start you on a temporary contract to see if you fit in with Sentinel's style."
"Does that mean I'm already hired?"
Mercer leaned back in his chair.
"Let's just say I like what I see. But we have a test run before we make it official."
"What kind of test run?"
Collins patted Grant on the shoulder.
"You'll like it. Tomorrow morning, at our training center." Let's see how you do in a realistic protection environment."
Grant nodded.
"I'll be there."
Mercer extended his hand again.
"Welcome to Sentinel, Grant."
As he left the Sentinel building, Grant felt something he hadn't felt in a long time—excitement for a new challenge.
He knew this career wouldn't be easy. High-profile protection required more than tactical skills it required emotional control, situational awareness, and the ability to anticipate threats before they even emerged.
But that didn't scare him.
This was exactly what he wanted.
Now, all that remained was to pass the test tomorrow and prove that, even outside of the special forces, he was still one of the best.
Chapter 54 – A New Record
Sentinel Global Security Training Center – Los Angeles, California
Grant Tucker-Pritchett adjusted his goggles and took a deep breath. Ahead of him was Sentinel Global Security's dynamic shooting range, where the final test of his evaluation would begin.
Beside him, Mark Collins, formerly of Delta and now a Sentinel instructor, smiled slightly.
"Ready to show you how it's done, Cine?"
Grant simply smiled and checked his Glock 19 before pulling the magazine and chambering it.
On the other end of the line, Daniel Mercer, Sentinel's CEO, watched intently alongside some of the company's most experienced security guards. Everyone was curious to see what Grant was capable of.
Collins held up the stopwatch.
"Your objective is simple: neutralize all targets in the simulation in the shortest possible time. There are 15 moving targets, with hostages mixed in. You will be judged on accuracy, speed, and decision-making under pressure."
Grant nodded, feeling his adrenaline surge.
"Let's do it."
Collins pressed a button, and the alarm sounded. The clock had started.
Grant moved like a ghost across the course, his pistol becoming an extension of his arm.
"Contact left!" he whispered to himself as he aimed and fired at an enemy target.
Every shot was clinical. Every movement was fluid.
He ducked behind a barricade, fired twice, and hit a target that quickly emerged from behind a door.
"Shit..." Collins muttered, impressed by Grant's speed.
Grant spun at the last moment, firing at two hostile targets while avoiding the mannequins representing civilians.
At exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds, the firing range fell silent.
"It's over."
Collins looked at the stopwatch and then at Mercer.
"He broke the record."
Mercer crossed his arms and smiled.
"I expected something impressive... but this was next level."
The other Sentinel operators glanced at each other. Grant hadn't just passed the test—he'd destroyed the previous record by almost 15 seconds.
Collins approached Grant, giving him a light pat on the shoulder.
"Welcome to Sentinel, brother. You just made training history."
Grant smiled slightly, unloading his gun and removing the magazine.
"Just doing my job."
After the test, Grant was escorted to Mercer's office, where the CEO greeted him with a firm handshake.
"You truly exceeded my expectations."
Grant sat in the leather chair while Mercer leaned back in his.
"Let's get straight to the point. You have the talent to be one of our top protection agents, but right now, we don't have any clients who need someone at your immediate level. However..."
He paused.
"We have an area that could greatly benefit from your skills: intelligence and risk analysis."
Grant raised an eyebrow.
"Does that mean working behind the scenes?"
"Partly, yes. But make no mistake—this role is just as crucial as being in the field. Our intelligence team monitors threats, analyzes the behavior patterns of potential attackers, and creates plans to keep our clients safe before danger even arises."
Grant thought for a moment. He'd never been just a soldier—he'd always enjoyed tactics, strategy, and scenario analysis.
"That interests me."
Mercer nodded.
"Great. You'll have full access to our monitoring systems, participate in strategic meetings, and learn how we operate from the inside."
"And if an opportunity arises for personal protection?"
"You'll be the first name on the list."
Grant smiled.
"Deal."
Before leaving the office, Mercer handed Grant a black box with the Sentinel logo.
"This is yours now."
Grant opened the box and saw a customized Glock 19, with a matte black finish and the Sentinel symbol engraved on the slide.
"Official company registration. Your weapon for operations."
Grant picked up the pistol, feeling its familiar weight.
"Perfect."
Collins, standing nearby, handed him another envelope.
"Here's your California concealed carry permit, as well as your federal permit to carry in other states."
Grant took the documents and nodded.
"I guess I'm officially part of the team now."
Mercer smiled.
"Welcome to Sentinel Global Security, Sergeant."
Chapter 55 – The New Career
Los Angeles, California – Pritchett-Tucker House
Grant parked his truck in his parents' driveway, turned off the engine, and took a deep breath. He was officially employed.
He adjusted his coat to ensure the Glock 19 in its concealed holster was well concealed before getting out of the car. It was a habit now always discretion.
He walked into the house and saw Mitchell and Cam in the living room, chatting while Lily was on her phone on the couch.
Cam was the first to notice him.
"Look who's here! The mysterious businessman!" he joked, standing up to hug his son.
"Hey, guys." Grant smiled, returning the hug.
Mitchell soon followed.
"So? How did it go? Did you get it?"
Grant crossed his arms, a smile appearing.
"I did. I'm hired."
Lily looked up from her phone.
"Does this mean you won't be spending so much time at home anymore?"
Grant laughed.
"It means I now have a steady job, but without having to disappear for months on undercover missions."
Cam clapped excitedly.
"That's amazing, Grant! We're so proud of you."
Mitchell smiled, relieved.
"And what exactly will you be doing?"
"For now, I'm in intelligence and risk analysis. I'll help monitor threats and ensure our clients are always one step ahead."
Lily arched an eyebrow.
"Clients... like who?"
Grant smirked.
"I can't say."
Cam placed his hand on his chest, feigning excitement.
"Oh my God, is this how secret agent parents feel?"
Mitchell rolled his eyes, laughing.
"And the pay? Is it worth it?"
Grant nodded.
"It pays very well. I have no complaints."
Cam sighed in relief.
"So you won't have to borrow money from us, will you?"
Grant laughed.
"Definitely not."
The Dunphy House – Family Reunion
Later that day, Grant drove to Aunt Claire's house. He knew almost the whole family would be there, and he wanted to share the news in person.
When the doorbell rang, it was Alex who opened the door.
"Grant! It's been a while!"
He smiled and hugged her.
"It's been a while."
As soon as he walked in, he noticed that almost everyone was gathered in the living room. Claire and Phil were on the couch, Hailey and Dylan sitting nearby, while Luke was on his phone. Jay, Gloria, Manny, and Joe were also there.
"Grant! You finally showed up!" Claire said, hugging her nephew.
Phil stood up excitedly.
"So, my young adventurer? How's life after the military?"
Grant shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Well... I got a new job."
Jay, who was drinking a whiskey, raised an eyebrow.
"And it's a good job?"
"Very good. High-level private security. Protection of important figures."
Gloria smiled.
"That's great, mijo! You deserve it."
Claire crossed her arms.
"Private security? Like bodyguards?"
"Basically. But that's not all. I also work in intelligence, risk analysis, threat prevention..."
Hailey blinked.
"Wait, you're going to work protecting celebrities?"
Luke brightened.
"If one of your clients is a famous rapper, let me know. I want a picture."
Grant laughed.
"If I tell you who my clients are, I'll lose my job."
Jay smiled.
"Now you're speaking my language. Professionalism and confidentiality."
Manny, ever curious, tilted his head.
"But if you're private security, you can carry a gun, right?"
Grant hesitated for a second, then gently pulled his jacket aside, revealing the Glock 19 discreetly holstered at his waist.
Phil's eyes widened.
"Wow! You're armed in my house!"
Grant gave a calm smile.
"It's a legal, registered carry. I'm allowed to carry anywhere."
Claire crossed her arms.
"Isn't that dangerous?"
"Not when you know what you're doing."
Jay nodded proudly.
"He's right. A gun is only as dangerous as the person carrying it. And Grant was trained by Delta, for God's sake."
Gloria looked at the gun, then back at Grant.
"Have you ever had to wear this to work?"
"Not yet. But if you do, I'll be ready."
Luke whistled.
"Man, that's really cool."
Phil scratched the back of his neck.
"You know, if I'd known you'd come armed, I would have asked you to help me change the garage lightbulb first. I would have felt a lot safer."
Everyone laughed.
Grant looked around, feeling the comfort of being with his family.
He had spent years in the Army, far from home, living in the midst of conflict. Now, he had a new path and, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
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